Mail & Guardian
Mail & Guardian

Political analysts and the dearth of sound public discourse

Public commentary:  Many analysts are preferred by some media houses because they are dependable in their framing regardless of the issue under discussion, the analytical trajectory is often remarkably similar. Screen shot courtesy of SABC
Public commentary: Many analysts are preferred by some media houses because they are dependable in their framing regardless of the issue under discussion, the analytical trajectory is often remarkably similar. Screen shot courtesy of SABC

One of the most under-examined features of South Africa’s contemporary media landscape is the growing tendency to present politically predisposed commentators as neutral analysts and independent experts. 

This is not merely a question of media diversity or editorial choice. It goes to the heart of how public opinion is shaped, how narratives are constructed and how political legitimacy is contested in a constitutional democracy.

The issue is not that commentators hold political views. Every analyst, academic, journalist and public intellectual approaches political developments from a particular perspective informed by experience, ideology and personal conviction. The problem arises when those perspectives are concealed beneath the mantle of neutrality and presented to the public as objective analysis.

The question that deserves serious consideration is this: Why do certain media houses repeatedly feature individuals with well-known political predispositions, yet continue to introduce them as independent analysts rather than as commentators advancing a particular viewpoint?

Take the example of Professor Alex van den Heever. His positions on many major public policy debates are widely known and remarkably consistent with the Democratic Alliance’s (DA) positions. Whether the discussion concerns healthcare reform, national health insurance (NHI), state capacity, governance or broader policy questions, his interventions often align with a particular ideological outlook.

There is nothing inherently wrong with that. His perspective deserves to be heard alongside others. The question is why such perspectives are so frequently presented as neutral expertise rather than one contribution within a broader contestation of ideas.

The same applies to Sipho Seepe. His views on the presidency, ANC internal dynamics, national leadership and affinity for Jacob Zuma are well established. Anyone who has followed his public commentary over the years can often predict the conclusions before the interview begins. 

Yet he continues to be invited onto platforms to “analyse” developments that almost invariably produce the same interpretation. At what point does predictability cease to be analysis and become advocacy?

Similarly, André Duvenhage has become a familiar voice whenever broadcasters require someone to interpret South African politics, ANC policy debates or organisational developments. 

Yet one often gets the impression that his understanding of the ANC is shallow and derived from newspaper clippings rather than from a deep appreciation of the ANC’s policies, internal processes and ideological traditions. 

Nevertheless, his views are frequently presented as authoritative explanations of ANC politics. The same can be said about William Gumede, Bheki Mngomezulu, Sandile Swana and many others. These examples are not offered as personal criticisms. They are intended to illustrate a broader institutional pattern.

Many “analysts” are preferred by some media houses because they are dependable in their framing. Regardless of the issue under discussion, the analytical trajectory is often remarkably similar. Many offer what can only be described as pedestrian observations, often lacking depth, historical grounding or empirical evidence. 

Yet they are routinely introduced as “experts” without sufficient scrutiny of what qualifies them for such designation. The question must be posed: By what standard is expertise being determined and in whose interest is that authority being conferred?

Whenever a major political development occurs, audiences are often presented with a familiar cast of commentators. A relatively small group of commentators often appears across media platforms, offering interpretations that, while presented as independent assessments, frequently converge around the same political conclusions. 

The same assumptions are recycled. The same conclusions are reinforced. The same narratives are amplified. What emerges is not necessarily analysis but the manufacture of consensus.

This raises an uncomfortable but necessary question: Are media institutions genuinely seeking diverse perspectives or are they selecting analysts whose conclusions are predetermined? 

The concern becomes even more pronounced when one considers the relative absence of analysts whose work is characterised by nuance, intellectual independence and methodological rigour. 

Scholars and commentators such as Steven Friedman, Mcebisi Ndletyana, Ebrahim Fakir, Khanyi Magubane, Lesiba Teffo and Sanusha Naidu often appear far less frequently than commentators whose views are more predictable and whose conclusions more neatly align with prevailing media narratives.

Why is this so? Perhaps the answer lies in the nature of contemporary media itself. 

Nuanced analysis rarely lends itself to sensational headlines or viral soundbites. Genuine intellectual inquiry introduces complexity. It acknowledges competing interpretations. It challenges assumptions. It refuses to reduce intricate political realities to simplistic narratives of heroes and villains. Predictable commentary, by contrast, is easier to package and easier to sell.

South Africans increasingly find themselves consuming commentary that privileges opinion over evidence and certainty over intellectual rigour.

The consequence is an erosion of and impoverishment of public discourse. Commentators are rewarded not for illuminating complexity but for reinforcing existing assumptions. Political developments are interpreted through predetermined lenses. Context is sacrificed in favour of simplicity and soundbites.

A healthy democracy depends not on the loudest voices or the most predictable commentators but on a commitment to intellectual honesty, diversity of thought and genuine analytical rigour. 

It requires voices willing to interrogate all centres of power, whether government or the private sector. It requires commentators who are prepared to challenge dominant narratives rather than merely reproduce them. It requires intellectuals who follow evidence wherever it leads, even when the conclusions are uncomfortable.

Above all, it requires honesty. If a commentator is advancing a particular ideological perspective, there is nothing wrong with that. What is wrong is presenting that perspective as neutral expertise while concealing its underlying assumptions and political preferences. The public deserves transparency. It deserves to know the difference between analysis and advocacy, between scholarship and opinion, between evidence and predisposition.

The real issue, therefore, is not whether analysts have biases. Every human being does. The issue is whether media institutions are being sufficiently honest about those biases when they present them to the public as independent expertise. That is a conversation South Africa can no longer afford to avoid. 

Perhaps, as a starting point, media outlets should be required to disclose the political history, affiliations, ethical track record and personal funding sources of individuals they present to the public as independent analysts.

A further challenge is that the political analysis industry operates largely without any formal standards of accountability. Unlike journalism, which is subject to professional codes, editorial oversight and regulatory mechanisms such as press ombuds structures, political commentators and analysts are often accountable only to themselves and the platforms that choose to host them.

There is no professional body that requires analysts to adhere to common standards of evidence, transparency or methodological rigour. There is no ombuds office to which members of the public can turn when analysis is demonstrably misleading, consistently inaccurate or driven by undisclosed political agendas. 

As a result, some commentators are able to make sweeping claims, offer speculative assertions and advance highly partisan interpretations with little consequence when those claims prove unfounded.

Equally concerning is the absence of any expectation that analysts disclose potential conflicts of interest, ideological affiliations, political loyalties or financial relationships that may shape their perspectives. Yet many of these individuals occupy influential positions in the public sphere. 

They are regularly called upon to interpret political developments, assess government performance, influence public opinion and even prescribe the direction the country should take on matters of national importance.

This influence carries significant responsibility. In any healthy democracy, those who shape public discourse should be subject to the same scrutiny they demand of politicians, public officials and institutions. 

Transparency, intellectual honesty and accountability should not be optional virtues; they should be minimum requirements for anyone who claims the authority to guide public understanding of political affairs.

The issue is not that analysts hold views or ideological preferences — everyone does. The issue is that individuals who exercise considerable influence over public opinion often do so without any obligation to disclose those predispositions or to account for the quality and consistency of their analysis. 

In a media environment where political commentary increasingly shapes perceptions of legitimacy, governance and democracy itself, this accountability gap deserves far greater public attention than it currently receives.

That is the standard to which both analysts and media institutions should be held. And it is a standard that the South African public has every right to demand.

Cornelius Monama is a public servant. He writes in his personal capacity (X: @cmonama).